


Ghost of You

by starspangledmanwithaplan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Angst without a happy ending, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Language, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 09:32:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15531342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspangledmanwithaplan/pseuds/starspangledmanwithaplan
Summary: Steve finds a way to make it through every day without you.





	Ghost of You

 

It was the light that woke him, the sun peeking through the blinds he had forgotten to close last night. The rays were intrusive, prodding at him, pulling him from the dreams he wished were real. First a finger twitched, then an eye, several toes, the muscles in his back rippling as the last bit of slumber wore off.

There was a hair on his face, long and silken, tickling his nose with every pass of the oscillating fan at the end of the bed. With a yawn, he swiped at his face, ridding himself of the irritating strand. There was no denying it any longer; Steve was awake.

With his eyes open, he stared at the empty space next to him, the space Y/N had once occupied. It had been over six months, probably closer to a year by now, and he had just gotten to the point where he could sleep in the bed he once shared with her, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he could bring himself to sleep on her side of the bed.

The pillowcase and sheet still smelled like her; fresh-cut grass and lilies, baby powder and sunshine. He could stay there all day if everyone else would let him. There was no time for grieving when you were Captain America. He had a job to do, people to save, bad guys to kill.

A heaving sigh tore out of him as he scraped a hand over his face, her empty coffee cup with a crimson lip print was the first thing he saw a moment later. The color had started fading the moment it was created. Where once it was an exact replica of Y/N’s plush bottom lip, it was now faded red lines, disappearing an iota more with every setting of the sun.

There were boxes in the corner of the room, half-filled with Y/N’s clothes and shoes. Steve would have finished the job had he not found the faded and threadbare Zeppelin shirt that had been her favorite. It had been Steve’s favorite at first, a shirt that was a little too tight across his shoulders, the stitching threatening to come apart with the simplest of movements. Y/N had swiped it one day, using it as a nightshirt, and it had been hers ever since.

“Goddamn it,” he ground out as he slid to the floor, the shirt in his hand, soaking up the tears as he held it to his face, breathing her in.

She had worn it the night before going to help save Wanda and Vision, strutting around the room, her thighs bare, a peek of pink lace panties, music blasting from the speakers. Steve couldn’t help but watch, completely entranced, a smirk on his lips, lust surging through him, desperate to feel her body against his.

Steve rolled to his back, his eyes falling closed, his forearm draped over his face. If he could just fall back to sleep, everything would be alright. With sleep, came the dreams, and with the dreams, came Y/N. He found that if he could dream long enough, she would tell him everything would be just fine.

_”You’ll be just fine, Stevie,” she purred, nails scraping through the hair on the back of his neck._

_Naturally, there would be tears streaming down his face. “Not without you,” he choked, desperation thick on his tongue._

_“It’s too late,” she insisted, her eyes bright and shining, unlike the day Thanos snapped his fingers and took her from him. “I can’t come back.”_

Y/N was right, he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from carrying the ghost of her with him wherever he went. Steve wanted… needed her with him. She was his lucky charm, the only one that made every- _fucking_ -thing matter, the only one that made Steve enjoy life. Fuck, Y/N was the love of his life, and she was  _gone_ , drifting through his fingers like dust, her name thick and heavy on his tongue.

There was someone knocking on the door, probably Tony. Steve knew better than to ignore the set of insistent knocks. So, he pushed off the bed and was opening the door a handful of seconds later.

“What do you want?” the super soldier wearily demanded to know.

“Daddy,” came the soft voice of his three year old daughter. Her arms were held out, fingers flexing and relaxing quickly, indicating she desperately wanted to be held by him.

Tony gave a small smirk as he handed Steve his daughter. “Sorry, Cap. You know how those Y/L/N women are.”

Steve was smiling and patting his daughter’s back as she latched her arms around his neck. “It’s okay, Tony. Really,” he insisted, earning a smile from his friend.

“Where mama?” she asked, peering over Steve’s shoulder once again, hell bent on finding Y/N.

Tony’s face fell and he clapped Steve on the shoulder. “Come on,” he urged. “Let’s get some breakfast.”

“Mama,” she called out, sniffling loudly, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

Despite his daughters protests, Steve closed the door before consoling his daughter, hand on her back, moving in slow circles, his cheek on the top of her head, her hair tickling his nose.

“It’ll be alright, sweetheart,” Steve assured her, following Tony down to the common area. “You’ll be just fine.”


End file.
